


Ectoplasm

by Stegowrites



Category: Street Fighter
Genre: Ghost Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:49:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26913928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stegowrites/pseuds/Stegowrites
Summary: Charlie's ghost pays Guile a visit on a lonely, sleepless night.
Relationships: Guile/Charlie Nash
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	Ectoplasm

**Author's Note:**

> This is another fic that I started writing over a year ago and finally decided to finish! I think part of what holds me back from posting these stories is that all of my writing is so similar. But hey, if I enjoy writing it and people enjoy reading it, there's nothing to worry about, right? Anyway, it's almost Halloween, so I think a story about Nash's ghost fits the mood nicely.
> 
> There's a little angst in the beginning, but don't worry! I'm not an author who writes things too sad or scary. Only weird and fun.

It wasn't like Guile to wake up in the middle of the night. Not unless he had been rattled by a nightmare. 

He lay there for minutes, gazing up at the ceiling as his mind strained to grasp whatever fleeting dream images had roused him, but was ultimately unsuccessful. Maybe he had just woken up for no damn reason at all, he decided as he rubbed a hand over his disgruntled expression. Although he had been getting just enough sleep to function on a daily basis, his nights had been significantly less comfortable since Charlie's death. His days, too, but at least during the day, he had enough work to keep him busy that he didn't have time to think of how much he missed him.

For now, he was too tired to worry about it. But, also, he felt too tense to sleep. As he reached out to pull the sheets up over his bare chest, it finally dawned on him that the most likely source of his insomnia that night was that he was suddenly, _shamefully_ hard. Because OF COURSE he had to spontaneously get an erection in the middle of the goddamn night. ...Now he wished he HAD remembered whatever dream had led to this. 

Well, as long as he was up (in at least one sense of the word), he figured he'd might as well make the most of it. Maybe he'd actually sleep better after an orgasm.

He sat up a bit, his back slouched against the firm pillows. The sheet tented awkwardly in his lap, its smooth fabric already spotted with the moisture of his pre-cum. He couldn't help but notice that the way the white material draped looked vaguely like a cartoon ghost. 

Gently, he folded the sheet down over his thighs and began to stroke himself with slow, tired motions. His fingertips traced over the shaft's bulging veins, feeling the slight pulse beating beneath the warm, taught skin. He couldn't even remember the last time he was this hard. Probably not since Charlie had been alive, on those clear, full-moon nights when they'd take a trip out to the countryside and make love in the backseat of his car... 

He tightened his grip on his cock as he recalled the muscles of Charlie's body casting shadows in the moonlight, the way his back curved into an arch of pleasure at the peak of their intercourse. Guile's heart raced, his breaths gasping with quick, quiet moans that almost but not quite called out Charlie's name. He stroked himself faster with his thoughts, but after several minutes, he hadn't quite gotten himself over the edge, and his arm was already prickling with fatigue. Damn it, how can he throw a hundred Sonic Booms in a row without feeling sore, but five minutes of masturbation was too much for him? He stopped abruptly in defeat, letting his aching arm fall onto the bed at his side. Too horny to sleep yet too tired to finish, he panted heavily while directing his frustrated glances toward the window.

It was a full moon tonight too, he noticed. 

God, missed Charlie so much. His mannerisms, his smile, the sound of his voice when he'd whisper gently in his ear...

"Hey...”

Guile blinked. The voice in his head was so clear that it was almost as if Charlie was laying right there beside him. But Charlie was dead, so surely he was just imagining it in his sleep-deprived state.

But then he felt the hand on his cheek, the soft brush of hair against his neck.

"Guile--"

"HOLY SHIT!"

Guile launched himself away from the apparition with such momentum that he nearly fell off of the bed, saved only by the tangle of blankets around his legs. He stared wide-eyed at the figure before him, which he'd swear was Charlie, if Charlie wasn't MOST CERTAINLY deceased.

"Hey, it's all right, calm down! Didn't I train you to maintain your composure better than that?"

It sure  _sounded_ like Charlie. And from what Guile could see through the blur of his teary eyes, it sure as hell  _looked_ like Charlie, too. A little translucent, maybe, and giving off a faint blue-white glow, but... yes, it was definitely him!

"Oh my god, is that really you, Charlie? What... How... Are you...?"

The ghost reached out touched his hand with a comforting pat.

"I'm sure you have lots of questions, but unfortunately I really can't answer them."

"Hold on... Why now? Not to sound ungrateful, but what brought you here, tonight, specifically?"

The ghost of Charlie shrugged. "Maybe I was just drawn to you because you were thinking so strongly of me in the moment."

Guile could feel himself go pale with shame. Had he really summoned the spirit of his best friend to the material plane simply by being that goddamn horny for him?

"Look, now that Bison is gone, I don't exactly have any ‘unfinished business’ here on Earth," Charlie said, caressing his spectral hand along Guile's inner thigh, "but as long as I'm here, we should enjoy ourselves."

-

Charlie's kisses felt just as Guile remembered. Rough, but slow and passionate, enhanced by the squeeze of his soft hands around his ass and pecs. Guile wasn't sure why he'd expected anything different... maybe because all the ghost stories he'd ever heard described visiting spirits as cold and formless things. But Charlie felt so  _warm_ , his body solid despite being translucent as a hologram. He smelled vaguely of scotch whiskey, and tasted like it too.

As Guile ran his hands through the ghost's hair and down his back, he noticed how clean and smooth his spectral body was. No scars or grime to betray his cause of death. In fact, he was so unblemished that Guile felt somewhat like he'd be tainting him by touching him with his filthy mortal hands. Charlie was receptive to the contact, however—excitedly pressing himself further into his touch. It was like he was just as eager to get off as Guile himself. Like they both needed to cum before they could truly rest.

“You nervous?” Charlie asked, in that familiar, taunting way.

Guile chuckled. “Not at all! If any ghost is going to haunt my bed, I’m glad it’s one as sexy as you.”

He  was a _little_ nervous, though. He had never done this before—not with a ghost, anyway. Were there any... curses or anything to be concerned about? Would Charlie’s incorporeal ass simply phase through his dick?

He realized he was probably getting too hung up on the logistics of the “ghost” part and should instead focus on the important fact that he was given an opportunity to have one more night with Charlie, in whatever form his spirit was able to manifest.

-

Guile sucked in a sharp gasp as Charlie's ghost mounted him, taking his stiff length slowly into his gently glowing form. It slid in easier than he'd expected, and with such warm, inviting pressure not unlike the times they'd fucked when Charlie was alive. What especially surprised and aroused him, though, was the sight of his cock pressing deep into Charlie's translucent body, illuminated by its supernatural glow. He never really considered, in the past, how much his cock actually  _filled_ him.

"Holy fuck..." Guile gasped, watching his cock throb and flex as the ghost slowly rode him, Charlie's own dick jutting out stiffly, leaking with a glistening ectoplasm.

Guile ran his fingers over the head of Charlie's cock, taking a good sample of fluid over his fingertips. He stared at it for a moment, then brought it to his tongue, tasting it with a seductive hunger in his expression. It was mostly flavorless, but with a hint of something sweet...

In every paranormal horror movie Guile had ever seen, it was always the ghosts who moaned and wailed eerily in the dead of night, slamming doors to frighten the residents of the haunted house. But here, fucking an actual ghost, he soon found that  _he_ was the one moaning noisily, no doors slamming, but rather his bed, into the floor and wall with the rise and fall of Charlie’s body. 

The intensity of the pleasure made Guile’s eyes flutter, but he tried to keep them open so that he could watch as Charlie’s luminescent form moved on top of him, shimmering even brighter with the backlight of the moon.

“Y-You’re my literal angel...” Guile panted, causing Charlie to break into a laugh that nearly threw off his rhythm. 

“Wow, I’ve missed all the stupid things you say. In fact, I’ve missed... all of this...”

“All of my dick?!”

Charlie looked like he was about to say something, but instead smiled and shook his head incredulously. 

“Oh second thought,” he said, leaning down to pin Guile’s arms over his head, “there's no need for talk.”

Before Guile could let out another word or witty one-liner, Charlie was kissing him again. The bedroom was almost quiet now besides their muffled groans and the slap of Charlie’s ass against Guile’s hips. He was moving with such force that his figure began to phase through ever-so-slightly, their bodies closer than ever before. Guile could feel his flesh tingle hotly where they mingled. He could feel his erection pressing deeper into Charlie, and was disappointed only that he couldn’t see it clearly from where he had him pinned down (though he suspected that the shape of his cock bulged where Charlie’s stomach would be). In any case, the sensation was becoming so much that he was barely able to hold back his orgasm.

He writhed beneath Charlie’s ghostly form, tried his best to get a word out between their deepening kisses, just to warn him of the impending release.

“Ch... Pleas... I... Charlie, I’m— _fuck_!”

When Charlie broke the kiss, it was only in time for Guile’s voice to crack with a yelp of ecstasy. His cock throbbed hard with the release, his body feeling immediate relief from the pent-up tension while Charlie’s translucent body visibly filled with the white loads of his cum. He breathed hard, his large chest rising and falling with deep, hurried gasps. He let out a groan of disappointment when the warmth of Charlie’s ass lifted off of him, but it was followed up by hums of satisfaction when the ghost lay by his side and smothered his cheeks with kisses.

“You’re not about to fall asleep on me, are you, Guile?”

“Mmm... ‘course not...” Guile yawned. He stroked a hand up the side of Charlie’s thigh, following it to the length of his firm, translucent cock. “Still want to get you off, after all.”

Guile had large hands, but even still, they couldn't quite wrap around the full girth of Charlie's dick. That was nothing new, though. Maybe he was a little out of practice for having been away from Charlie for so long, but he was fairly certain he could handle it. Anyway, he had no intention of letting his best friend down after coming all this way from the afterlife.

Ectoplasmic pre-cum continued to ooze from Charlie's cock, and this time, Guile wanted more than just a brief taste of it.

Charlie watched Guile's face, lit by the glow of his blue-white shaft. His glare was intense. Determined.  _Sexy_ . And then the light faded as Guile took Charlie's length into his mouth, although the soft glow could still be seen somewhat behind his cheeks. And, in a moment, the glow emanated from his throat, too.

"Guile... Guile, slow down a little... It's really good, but... !"

Guile pulled off, gasping deeply and sputtering with saliva and ooze. His tone was a little annoyed despite his breathlessness. "I can handle it, Charlie!" he snapped.

"H-Hey! You can't talk back to your superior officer like that! I might be dead, but I'm not--!"

But Guile had already resumed his mission of sucking him off. 

"Guile, s-seriously..." Charlie pleaded as Guile licked up the underside of his cock, "I admire your boldness, but if you keep up like this, I'm not going to be able to hold back much longer."

"Maybe I  _don't want you_ to hold back," Guile growled before pressing his lips around the head of Charlie's dick and beginning a slow descent back to its base. He had to pull up a few times to catch his breath and start over, but the way Charlie gasped his name and pulled at his hair was all the more encouragement. Eventually, he was able to take Charlie's full length without gagging, although it required most of his concentration. His remaining focus was spent on gazing up at Charlie's face, taking in all of his pleasured expressions. The way his mouth hung open with his moans, his eyes half-shut like he was about to faint. It was hard to tell with his ghostly, glowing form, but Guile was pretty sure Charlie was blushing, too. At least, he always remembered him blushing when they were intimate together. The warmest, purest pink hue he had ever seen.

Guile sputtered again when Charlie's cock flexed against the back of his throat. He tried to suppress it, but it turned into a whole fit of coughs that forced him to quit mid-blowjob.

"Damn it," he grumbled, "guess I'm out of practice after all..."

"It's fine," Charlie laughed, "as long as you're not out of practice with your Sonic Booms, too!"

Guile grinned at him, moving in close enough that their faces were almost touching. "Oh, don't worry about that, Charlie. My arm strength is as good as ever..." 

He then grabbed Charlie's cock in a fierce grip and proceeded to stroke him rapidly. His arm still hurt from earlier, but, fuck it. While he was at it, he took Charlie's balls in his other hand, clenching his fist around them just hard enough to make Charlie whimper.

"Guess I should let you cum, huh?" Guile breathed into Charlie's ear.

"Y-Yes...!"

"Hmm... Is that an _order_ , sir?"

Charlie smirked, his hands squeezing once more at Guile's broad pecs. "If it was an _order_ , I'd be ordering you to take my cum on your chest!"

"Is that so? Heh,  _yes sir_. "

Guile repositioned himself just in time to catch the initial splash of bright white cum against his cleavage. It continued for what seemed like minutes, shooting across his collarbone and filling the creases between his muscles, slowly dripping down from the ridges of his abdomen and his hard nipples, onto the now very wrinkled bedsheets.

"Geezus," Guile mumbled, surprised but impressed by the thickness and volume of his ghost lover's ejaculate. He ran his fingertips through it, smearing the faintly glowing fluid over his skin in a short-sighted attempt to wipe it off.

"Sorry," Charlie said sheepishly, "do you need to go clean off or...?"

"In a minute," Guile spoke through a yawn. The adrenaline from the sex was quickly wearing off, exposing his true level of tiredness. But he didn't want to sleep yet... not before giving Charlie one more kiss.

It was a soft kiss, just a bit of pressure against one another's lips, but a long one. It was supplemented by a firm hug that Charlie phased through just a bit, filling Guile with that comforting, tingling warmth. He felt so relaxed to be in his arms again. And after all his insomnia, he was now so tired. 

So...

...

-

Guile blinked his eyes open, glancing around the brightly-lit bedroom in mild confusion. It was morning already? He hadn't remembered falling back asleep after waking last night. When he and Charlie's ghost had...

He sat up at once, taking a more focussed look around the sunlit room. Had he  _dreamed_ all of that? There were no signs of any apparition here now, that was for sure. He folded the bedsheets over in his hands. Clean. No trace of ectoplasm or cum anywhere, not even his own.

"Charlie...?"

It felt silly to call out to an empty apartment, but maybe... just maybe...

No, there was nothing. It was just a weird, vivid dream, he thought. It had to be. There was no such thing as ghosts, after all...

But then, there was a peculiar smell in the air, and the matching taste of scotch whiskey on his tongue.

Guile smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> Ghosts are real and they are sexy.


End file.
